


ghosts and echoes of you (everywhere we go)

by AlexiaBlackbriar13



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 7x22 Related, Angst, Baby Mia, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s07e22 You Have Saved This City, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Grocery Shopping, Heavy Angst, Oliver is dead but not really, Panic Attacks, Post-Crisis On Infinite Earths, Post-Episode: S07e22 You Have Saved This City, Recovery, toddler mia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 13:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18993919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/pseuds/AlexiaBlackbriar13
Summary: Everywhere she turned, she could see Oliver. His reflection, his ghost - his memory. It was painful. It was suffocating. Mia was the only reason she didn’t break down most days.





	ghosts and echoes of you (everywhere we go)

**Author's Note:**

> so sam and i enjoyed a good couple of hours at a costa in london this morning writing and hanging out post-MCM and london antics and i wrote this all in one sitting. sam called me evil and a monster. she's probably right.
> 
> hope you enjoy the angst!!

Going grocery shopping without Oliver would never not feel weird to Felicity.

When they’d first moved into the Bloomfield cabin, the two of them had always visited town together on Wednesday mornings, frequently the locally owned stores and farmers’ markets for hours on end and slowly filling their tote bags with organic fruits, vegetables and meats which Oliver would transform into an amazing meal that evening, and days after. It became one of their favorite things to do during the week - all of the stall owners knew them by name, knew their preferences, and some would even save the best of the crop and cuts especially for her husband.

Bloomfield had grown fond of Oliver and Felicity - and not just because the majority of the residents, being ex-ARGUS, ex-CIA and ex-special forces, appreciated the pair’s efforts as heroes to clean up Star City and combat crime in the pursuit of justice. They always attempted to be active in the community, attending town meetings, bringing food to neighborhood BBQs, and participating in the charity events; Oliver had become popular with the children, as he had advocated for the park’s play equipment to be upgraded and even paid for some of the renovations out of his own pocket, and Felicity had swiftly become a hit with some of the local businesses by helping upgrade their computers and accounting systems, providing tech advice free of charge.

When Mia was born, the entire Bloomfield community had rejoiced alongside Oliver and Felicity. Although the Smoak-Queens became a lot more private after the baby graced their lives, the locals made sure to let it be known that they had their support if they ever needed anything. Oliver and Felicity enjoyed taking their newborn daughter out on evening strolls around the forest, where they often bumped into their neighbors, who never hesitated to offer up babysitting services if they ever needed them.

The day Oliver left with the Monitor was a dark one, and Felicity hadn’t been the same since. Now being forced to raise her two-month-old baby alone, without her husband present, she withdrew from the community. Thankfully, the locals seemed to understand that she needed the space and time to deal with her loss, and left her alone.

The Wednesday morning grocery shops still occurred, but Felicity hurried through them. Everywhere she turned, she could see Oliver. His reflection, his ghost - his memory. His very existence haunted the market square. Oliver, debating with Mrs Carver which dairy products melted the best for cauliflower cheese. Oliver, taking ten minutes to choose which rack of ribs he wanted while Mr Gavin served three other customers in the time it took for the archer to decide. Oliver, holding five-year-old Jason by the waist as the boy attempted to clamber to the top of the climbing frame, and then Oliver plucking him off and cuddling the child when he got too scared to continue.

It was painful. It was suffocating. Mia was the only reason she didn’t break down most days. Having the baby with her during the shopping trips helped, only because she gave Felicity a fixed time schedule to follow. She had to finish in an hour because Mia needed feeding. She couldn’t hang around and chat because Mia needed her nap. Felicity was well aware that she was probably coming across as very rude to the Bloomfield residents, especially as she refused to let anybody hold her daughter, and she did, of course, feel guilty about it.

But she wasn’t going to apologize for being overprotective of her and Oliver’s daughter. One of the last pieces left of her husband that she hadn’t lost yet. William was living with his grandparents off on the East coast somewhere; the Claytons refused to tell Felicity the address, and claimed that William didn’t want anything to do with her anymore, especially after Oliver’s fake funeral. Usually, Felicity would have ignored them and tracked him down anyway, but she was too hurt and didn’t want to be rejected by William again. She wouldn’t survive that.

Years passed. Mia grew, from a tiny baby into a toddler. Felicity enjoyed every moment with her, but couldn’t help but think about how much Oliver was missing. He missed Mia’s first word - “Mama” - and missed her first steps. Her only consolation was the fact that her husband had managed to witness their daughter’s first smile and laugh. But there were so many other firsts that Oliver didn’t get to see. It was heartbreaking.

Mia knew who Oliver was. Felicity made sure that she knew precisely how important the man in all the photos around the cabin was to them. She could tell that Mia was confused. She didn’t quite understand who “Daddy” was, at least, not yet. Sometimes Felicity would notice the baby glancing around the room in bemusement, as if she knew that somebody was meant to be there with her, but was missing. Oliver’s absence was excruciating.

When Mia was one year old, she opened a card that Felicity had found tucked behind the mantelpiece from Oliver, who must have written it mere minutes before the Monitor had whisked him away, because the tear stains were clearly visible on it, and his handwriting was shaky. Felicity read it to the baby while Mia sat on her lap and aided her in tracing the words with her tiny pudgy fingers. She barely kept it together; her voice was choked by the time she finished reading the paragraph about Oliver loving his daughter more than the universe, and Mia being his starlight guiding him out of the darkness. Mia had placed her hand over the card and then looked up at Felicity, asking confusedly, “Da?”

Felicity cried when at the age of two, Mia managed to clamber up onto the kitchen counter - she had absolutely no idea how - and the toddler accidentally knocked over a framed photo of Oliver’s first time holding the baby, shattering the glass. Mia began crying because Felicity was crying, and the two of them had been in tears all afternoon. It was heartwrenching how many times the toddler apologized, sobbing out the word ‘sorry’, because Mia was too young to know or understand what grief really was.

On Mia’s third birthday, she turned to Felicity after receiving the gift of a mini ball pit that the label had claimed was ‘from Daddy’ and questioned in a small voice, “Where Daddy?”

Felicity’s throat was thick and her voice croaked as she replied, “He’s gone, sweetheart. Daddy’s gone away.”

Mia nodded, peering back down at her present and weighing two of the plastic balls in her hands. “He come back?”

“Maybe,” Felicity whispered. “But I don’t know, baby girl. Daddy… everybody thinks that Daddy is dead.”

The toddler paused and then asked, “Dead?”

Wiping her eyes frantically, she mumbled, “It means Daddy’s not coming back.”

“Oh.” Mia sat silently for a little while, absentmindedly knocking the plastic balls back and forth in front of her. Then, without saying a word, she slowly stood up and walked away back into her bedroom.

Felicity only let her tears fall once she was alone.

It was a couple of days after Mia’s fourth birthday that the event known as The Meltdown occurred, in Mrs Carver’s local store. As said before, Felicity always felt extremely strange surveying the fresh fruit and veg aisles without her husband by her side. She’d learned by pure desperation how to cook some basic healthy dishes, although stuck to the easiest of foods to deal with. Carrots, broccoli, and potatoes she could handle… asparagus and zucchini, not so much.

She was hand-picking some sweet potatoes when she realized that Mia had let go of her hand and was wandering down the aisle, stumbling a little as her sneakers slipped on the floor tiles. Mia knew not to walk off too far, so Felicity was happy that her daughter was going to stay within her sightline and stay safe. Glancing up every couple of seconds to check on Mia, the blonde selected the potatoes she wanted and then moved on to examine strawberry punnets.

“Oh! Hi, honey. Are you lost? Where are your parents?”

Felicity’s eyes flashed up, a flicker of panic clenching her chest. A young couple she didn’t recognize had approached Mia and were crouching down to talk to her. Mrs Carver, who was organizing shelves at the bottom of the aisle, was keeping a close eye on them, but didn’t seem to be alarmed. Felicity stood back and watched, ready to jump in if something bad started to happen. Mia seemed calm though.

“Parents?” Mia repeated.

“Yeah, honey, your parents,” the woman of the couple said. “Where’s your mom? Your dad?”

“My daddy?” Mia echoed. “Daddy’s gone.”

All of the oxygen rushed out of Felicity’s lungs at once, leaving her breathless. Her knees felt weak and she was pretty certain her legs were about to give out on her, sending her tumbling to the ground.

The man cocked his head sideways. “Gone? Has he traveled somewhere? Is he away?”

“No,” Mia shook her head. “He’s dead.” The couple looked shocked. Mia patted the woman on the arm. “Thank you. Imma go back to Mama now. Bye.”

Felicity was drifting in and out of consciousness, barely remaining on her feet as Mia toddled back towards her. She honestly felt as if she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t notice and didn’t care that Mia picked up a punnet of raspberries and tipped it into their shopping basket, because she was too focused on trying not to pass out. The couple, who seemed to have realized that Mia had returned to her mom, quickly scarpered; Felicity could only imagine how surprised and horrified they must have been to hear those words come out of a four-year-old’s mouth. She was certainly devastated. To hear Mia say that for the first time ever - that her father was dead - was soul crushing.

She tripped and staggered through the rest of the store, letting Mia and her ever-present curiosity guide her up and down the aisles. Fighting the sudden onslaught of dizziness and the urge to pant, Felicity made it to the frozen dessert section before collapsing. Her shoulders felt like they were weighed down by concrete, and there was an agonizing heaviness in her chest as if her lungs were being squeezed, constricting her air intake. She heard Mia shriek, although the sound rippled, almost as if Felicity were trapped underwater and was drowning.

Oliver was gone. Oliver was gone and she was alone, raising his daughter, their daughter, by herself. She had no idea if he was even still alive - the Monitor had said he would die in the Crisis, and that had happened years ago now - and was clueless as to whether there was even a chance, the slightest possibility, that he might be able to return to them. Mia would never properly know her father. She didn’t even really remember him. How long would be it before Felicity started to forget? Would Oliver fade from her memories? Would she forget his face, his voice, the feeling of his arms around her and his lips on her skin and his warmth surrounding her, making her feel safe?

Felicity came back to full consciousness, her head still swimming, due to deep pressure on her legs. Mia was settled on her lap, hugging her tightly and murmuring quietly about how she was going to be okay. Her muscles still not fully responding, she struggled to raise her arms and embrace her daughter back.

Mrs Carver was standing a couple of feet away, watching them concernedly - Felicity reckoned that Mia must have told her to stay back, as the toddler knew by now from witnessing previous panic attacks that her mother got even more overwhelmed when surrounded by people. Giving the older woman a reassuring nod that she was alright, Felicity returned to hugging Mia as Mrs Carver sighed in relief and walked away.

“M’sorry, Mama,” Mia muttered into her shirt. “Didn’ mean’ta upset you.”

“It’s okay, starlight,” Felicity replied, her voice a whisper. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

Mia shook her head. “No. Just wor-ried.” She tucked some of Felicity’s loose strawberry blonde hair behind her ear with her little fingers, leaning in and up to press a messy, affectionate kiss to her mother’s cheek. “Love you.”

Felicity exhaled, swallowing before she responded quietly, “I love you too. I love you more than anybody else in the entire universe.”

“Not true,” the toddler denied.

“Yeah? Who else do I love more than you?” she teased.

Mia regarded her completely seriously. “Daddy,” she said simply. “N’that’s okay. I know you miss him. I miss him too. I don’ mind you lovin’ him more than me.”

A lump formed in Felicity’s throat. She tried to will back her tears as she murmured, “I love you and Daddy both equally, Mia. And some people might say that loving Daddy that much when he’s gone isn’t healthy.”

“It’s be’cus he’s gone that you love him more,” Mia replied, shrugging. “‘Cus all the love you would give him every day is all inside you still, and it builds up and up and up until you have the most love in the world for him. You give me my love every day, n’that’s why it’s okay you love me a little less.” She held her hand up, showing a tiny space between her fingers. “But only a little.”

Felicity chuckled through the sadness swelling in her heart at how wonderful and kind her and Oliver’s daughter truly was. “Okay, starlight. Just a little less.”

That afternoon, they returned home to the cabin and changed into pajamas as soon as they got in the door, pushing the groceries into the fridge onto random shelves and then picking out the pints of ice cream they’d chosen to sit on the couch together and eat them while watching _101 Dalmations_. Felicity sat with Mia sprawled across her lap, laughing softly as the four-year-old whined about them getting their own puppy.

Felicity’s husband was gone, but she still had their daughter to care for. Mia reminded her of Oliver in so many different ways: the determined gleam in her eyes whenever she wanted to do something, the energy in her limbs when she got excited, her confidence often echoed by an inherent cautiousness… Mia was proof of every one of Oliver’s best qualities, and it was somewhat reassuring to know that he would live on through his daughter, and his son, wherever William was.

“Does it make you sad?” she eventually asked Mia, once they’d moved on from _101 Dalmations_ to _Peter Pan_. “That Daddy’s gone - that everybody thinks he’s dead? That he isn’t here with us?”

Mia took a moment to answer. “Yeah,” she said, her voice lower than usual. “But jus’ be’cus he’s not _here_ here, doesn’ mean he’s not _here_ , ya know?”

Felicity nodded. “He’s here,” she poked Mia’s chest, pointing at her heart. “Wherever you go and no matter what happens.”

Returning the gesture, Mia placed her forefinger over the top of her mother’s heart. “And he’s here too.”

They got through half of the movie before it was time for the toddler’s nap. She was yawning into Felicity’s shoulder as she carried her into her bedroom and settled her down under the covers, fluffing her pillow and handing Mia the plush kangaroo Oliver had bought her when she’d been a month old, as a joke. Mia cuddled up with the toy and accepted hugs and kisses from her mother with remarkable patience.

“Goodnight, Mama,” Mia whispered, patting her on the arm.

“Goodnight, Mia.”

Felicity’s heart was shattered one last time that day, as she switched the lights off and walked out of the room to hear Mia mumble to the air, “Goodnight, Daddy.”

Because she would never get to hear a response.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading xx hope you enjoyed! please leave kudos and comment ;)
> 
> tumblr: @alexiablackbriar13  
> twitter: @lexiblackbriar


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